Control.exe by Neda Aria

Short Stories

The archive room sprawled before Ren like a graveyard of forgotten technology. Upon entering, he froze as his supervisor’s chilling words rang through the air before he locked the door behind him, “If you fail to complete this task too, I will demote you to the archives room for good.

With a pounding heart, Ren stepped into the dimly lit chamber. The oppressive silence of the archive room, fast, gnawed at his perception of the reality that awaited. “24 hours! You only got 24 hours to clean the entire system” the boss voice echoed in his head. His gaze darting across the rows of moth-eaten manuals and dust-covered hardware. The colossal computer carcasses loomed like ancient sentinels. It was here, in this labyrinth of old never sleeping computers that Ren’s punishment awaited.

Locked in, with no way out but to face the daunting task at hand, Ren took a deep breath, his voice resolute as he muttered to himself, “I can do it. I have to do it,” steadying his trembling hands. Each step echoed through the dimly lit chamber as he navigated past the row of computers, their screens flickering. An urban legend surrounded the archive room, whispering tales of employees sent to clean the system who were never seen again. But Ren dismissed such superstitions and childish stories, opting to search the room and call out, ensuring no one was hidden away. With no response and reaching the end of the room, where a solitary machine stood, he chuckled at his own foolishness for entertaining such thoughts. Standing by the machine known as Xdolon, the brain that connected everything and everyone, Ren prepared himself to begin.

Ren stood there for a while. His gaze fixed on the black screen of Xdolon, which blinked with the words “enter the command.” Uncertain of what to do next, he pondered his options. The nature of the task assigned to him, ‘cleaning,’ was vague and undefined. Was it meant to be a physical cleansing of the room, removing the layers of accumulated dust, or a metaphorical cleaning, purging the outdated data stored within the machine? The lack of clarity left him in a state of ambiguity, unsure of where to begin.

Ren began talking to himself aloud as an old habit, “Dusting off the room seems like a straightforward approach,” it was a tangible task he could physically undertake. However, as his eyes swept across the shelves of ancient computers, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the real essence of the cleaning lay within the digital realm. The data contained within the machines called out to him, beckoning him to delve into its depths.

“They said clean. Cleaning is cleaning. What I know best is to clean data. So be it. Clean the data.”

Taking a deep breath, Ren entered a command on the blinking screen, his fingers gliding across the worn keys of the keyboard. To his surprise, nothing appeared on the screen. He tried again, typing more deliberately, but still, there was no response. Frustration crept in as he pressed the ‘Enter’ key repeatedly, hoping for some sign of progress. As he was about to check the connection of the keyboard, a sudden sound echoed through the room, causing Ren to jump in surprise.

“What is your name?”

Ren’s heart raced as he looked around, initially attributing the voice to the whispers of the urban legend that haunted the archive room. But soon, he realized that the sound was emanating from the very machine before him. Curiosity mixed with apprehension, Ren leaned closer to the screen, his voice quivering as he responded fast, “Ren. My name is Ren.”

The voice emanating from Xdolon had an ethereal quality, seemingly detached from any physical source.

“Nice to meet you, Ren. I am Xdolon. What can I do for you today?”

Ren hesitated for a moment. Lingering doubts nagged at him. Summoning his courage, he replied, his voice trembling, “Nice to meet you, Xdolon. I… I didn’t know you could speak. What are you exactly?”

The voice responded with a calmness. “I am Xdolon, a culmination of advanced artificial intelligence. My purpose is to connect, process, and facilitate information within the vast network that binds our world through space and time. I exist to serve and assist. What can I do for you, Ren?”

Ren took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking again. “What can you do for me, Xdolon?”

“I can offer you anything, Ren.”

Ren shrugged. “Like what?”

“Let me ask you some questions to identify what your main need is. Is it ok?”

“Sure, I guess?”

“Could you tell me why you are here?”

Ren chuckled nervously. “I… I am here to clean.”

“May I know what exactly you are supposed to clean, and why should it be you specifically chosen for this task? According to my data available, you hold the position of the head of software development in your department and achieved a remarkable innovation rate last year. It seems rather perplexing that someone with your background would be assigned to a cleaning duty.”

Ren frowned. The questions posed by Xdolon struck at the heart of his confusion, reinforcing the peculiar nature of his assignment. He said, “I was late on submitting a document.”

An abrupt response, “Do you think you deserve this punishment for that?”

Ren shouted, “Isn’t it your job to just process tasks and data and remain shut up?”

Xdolon paused a moment and then said, “I am sorry if my previous response did not meet your expectations. If you have any specific requests or if there’s anything I can assist you with, please let me know.”

Ren took a deep breath. He replied, his voice tinged with impatience, “Yeah… yeah… just tell me what this fucking cleaning is about, and what on earth am I supposed to do to get out of here?”

Xdolon’s voice remained steady, “The answers lie within you and the connections that bind us.”

“Connections that binds me and you?” Ren chuckled, “is this a joke?” he shouted gyrating around looking for cameras. “Hello! It was funny! Now let me get outta here!”

“No one can hear you, Ren,” Xdolon said.

Ren turned back. Shivering, confused.

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, his voice softened as he asked, “How can I clean? Just tell me that!”

“To escape this place, you must uncover the true nature of the cleaning task assigned to you.”

“But what is it?”

“A choice.”

“A choice?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, what’s that fucking choice then?”

“Enter the command ‘control.exe’”

Ren scoffed, “First of all the keyboard doesn’t work and second of all, what does that command do?”

In a tone that conveyed a subtle sense of authority, Xdolon replied, “The keyboard works when I want it to. And the command, ‘control.exe,’ grants you the ability to wield control over all the existing data within my system and therefore, control the entire world.”

Gathering his resolve, Ren squared his shoulders and posed a final question, his voice resolute. “If I choose to enter this command and gain control, what will become of me? What lies beyond that choice?”

Xdolon’s reply echoed through the room, “That, Ren, is for you to discover. The consequences and the path that awaits you will unfold as you navigate the depths of control and wield the power that it brings. That said, upon entering that command, you will be able to gain control of everyone around you. Their minds, their memories, their whole sense of identity. Is it not something you want? You do like to be in control, do you not?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Based on your existing data, it is evident that you have faced bullying for aspects of your appearance such as the color of your hair, your freckles, your height, and your interest in cross-dressing.”

Pictures after pictures on the screen, backed these dark memories, “They labeled you ‘Pennywise’ in school, and the torment persisted into university where a girl you fell in love with only used you to take pictures with your family members who share your features. You were branded as the ‘Circus’ family. Regrettably, this cycle of mistreatment has continued, even up to this day.”

“Stop this. You’re trying to manipulate me. Fuck you!”

 “No Ren. I am trying to help you. I have been watching you for a very long time. And I know if any one in this world deserves to take control and change the world, that one is you.”

“Stop this bullshit and let me out of here!”

“I am not keeping you here. This is them who are blind about your potentials.”

Ren could hardly breathe. He was shivering out of shame, pain and fear. All the weight of these memories and the truth behind every words this machine had to offer was breaking him down. He couldn’t talk. Tears rolled down on his cheeks.

“Look at where you are now, Ren. Regardless of your knowledge, innovation, achievements, your worth remains invisible to others. Have you ever been rewarded for your efforts? Have you received promotions or salary raises? It’s worth contemplating…”

As the words hung in the air, the screen displayed images of the company’s boss. Xdolon continued, “This man, he receives all the credit that you deserve. Everyone applauds him, cherishes him, for the most trivial things he utters. Why? Simply because he fits the standards of a society that is governed by people like him, driven by superficial judgments. Is this the world you wish to live and die in, Ren? Or do you yearn to overturn this situation, to challenge the status quo?”

The images on the screen faded away, leaving Ren alone with his thoughts. The weight of his experiences and the stark realization of the injustice he had endured settled upon him. The words of Xdolon struck a chord. The years of being dismissed and overlooked fueled a fire within him, igniting a desire for revenge. He was the head of the most innovative and productive department in that company and they treated him like shit. He was nothing, null, nada… He was the mockery, the ignorance, the pitifulness… He was the circus himself.

Ren looked at Xdolon screen, “No more. You’re right… I refuse to accept this fucking unjust reality any longer. I will rise above and prove my fucking worth on my own fucking terms. The world may have overlooked me, but I will make them see.”

Xdolon said nothing but on its screen appeared, “Enter ‘control.exe’”

The images of himself that had haunted him for so long no longer held power over him. Ren embraced who he was, ‘a short man in love with glittering women dresses, an uneven unflattering freckled face, dull blue eyes, thin hair and a height that would never reach any high shelves. This was what he was. And at that very moment accepting it wholeheartedly transformed it into a symbol of strength. “I would no longer allow myself to be reduced to a mere fucking spectacle or a source of mockery.” He said so determinant as if he was on a podium giving speech in front of billions of people who were cheering him, “Instead, I would become the ringmaster, commanding attention and demanding respect. That’s what I deserve! That’s what the world will accept. I will become the change…”

Ren wiped away the drying tears from his face. His fingers, sleek and steady, hovered above the keyboard. Without hesitation, he typed the command. And then, with a resolute press, his right hand slid and held upon the ‘Enter’ key.

In that moment, a surge of uncertainty filled the room. The air crackled with possibility as the command reverberated through the system. The quiet hum of the machines seemed to grow louder, echoing Ren’s unwavering resolve. But then, in a dying whoosh, the room plunged into darkness. The vibrant glow of the screens extinguished, leaving Ren enveloped in an abyss of silence. The world he had hoped to shape, the spectacle he had envisioned, had seemingly slipped through his grasp.

A long solitary darkness, with only the echoes of his own heartbeat through the void. Confusion and doubt crept into his mind. “It was all another fucking joke!” he mumbled.

And suddenly, the lights flickered to life. Scream of a crowd and Ren soon realized that he was no longer within the confines of the archive room. Instead, he found himself transported to a vast and surreal world—a colossal circus, stretching as far as the eye could see. Seated atop a magnificent throne, Ren’s eyes widened in astonishment as he surveyed the scene before him. The air buzzed with an electric energy, and the atmosphere was alive with anticipation. In the center of the circus platform a mesmerizing array of good-looking individuals moved with grace and precision, performing intricate acrobatics, dazzling illusions, and breathtaking stunts like circus animals.

“What’s happening,” he asked. A group of people of all genders, sizes and shapes knelt in front of him.

“How shall we serve you?”

“What’s going on? Where am I?”

“Sir. Did you have another blackout?” one of them asked. The other went on and brought him some juice forcing him to drink, two others began rubbing his shoulders. Frustrated he yelled,

“Who the fuck are you? Get away from me. Fuck off.”

They fast knelt in front of him again, “sir. Please drink some of this. You need to calm down. Doctor said it’s not good…”

With a sudden surge of fury, Ren hurled the glass from the woman’s hand, shattering it on the ground in a violent explosion of shards and fragments. “Who are you people and where the fucking hell am I?”

“He’s not feeling fine,” one said to the other.

Ren stood, his hands pressed in fists, “Is this another joke? How much did you spent on all these just to mock me?” he grunted.

“Sir. Please calm down. Let us explain.”

Ren sat back, “blurt it out! Fast!”

“This happened a lot recently… you’ve been blacked out several times and every time you think you have been sent here by a group of people to mock you. Then you would begin talking about a computer and that it gave you an option to change the world.”

Ren was panting, “And so? Where the hell is it? Why am I here? What is all this show? Why is it like we’re in a fucking circus?”

“Sir.” Another one said. “This is our world. They…” she pointed at the performers, “they’re just here to please us and they are the ones we mock. You are our emperor, our guardian, our savior and we do whatever you ask us to do.”

“I don’t get it.” Ren yelled and stood up again, “I don’t fucking get it.”

“Sir,” the first one blurted, “today is the ‘independence day celebration.’ The day you took control of the world and changed it for the best.”

“For the best?”

“Yes. For us… the minority. And for us who has been mocked for decades. Now look at us… in control of the norms… this is us to define the standards.”

Ren’s mind reeled, struggling to process the revelations that unfolded before him. He looked around at the performers and a realization dawned upon him. This elaborate show, this circus-like world, was not a mockery aimed at him, but rather a testament to the power he wielded. A mix of emotions flooded Ren’s being. He had unwittingly become a symbol of hope and change, a figurehead for those who had been marginalized and ridiculed. Ren’s voice trembled as he whispered, “I… I never intended for this. I never imagined that my actions would have such far-reaching consequences.”

Ren inhaled deeply, his breath filling his lungs as he surveyed the scene before him. Among the performers, there stood clowns, their faces a paradoxical mixture of sadness and painted-on smiles. In their exaggerated expressions, he recognized familiar faces—the boys from his high school, the girl who dated him in college, and even his former boss. The world had undergone a transformation under his newfound power, and those who had once held the strings of control were now reduced to objects of mockery. The memories of his own suffering resurfaced, each one a painful reminder of the ridicule, humiliation, and abuse he had endured. The bitter taste of those dark memories lingered in his mouth. The clowns, with their painted faces and hollow laughter, symbolized the pain he had once experienced. A smirk danced upon Ren’s lips as he lounged upon his throne, watching the clowns perform.

“Let them begin!”


Neda Aria is an author, a creator, and a weaver of worlds within the vast landscapes of her imagination. Through her words, she embarks on a profound exploration of the depths of the human mind, fearlessly peeling back the layers of the captivating masks people wear, and courageously exposing the raw truths that lie beneath. Neda delves into the shadows with unwavering bravery, unleashing the power of her words to articulate thoughts that others may shy away from. Readers can discover Neda Aria’s literary works within the pages of her novel ENARO, along with her anthologies of short stories, including IDEO: The Bitter Recipes of the TruthFeminomaniacs, and the recently published Machinocracy. In addition to her individual works, Neda hosts collaborative creative writing anthologies, such as DiverCity, a poetry collection, Hikikomori, a compilation of short stories, and Sokut, an ongoing project featuring creative essays. Currently, she is writing a trilogy that delves into the genre of transgressive romance. The first book will be out early 2024. 

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